


Pregnancy Aboard!

by deltachye



Category: Star Trek
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8106484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [pregnant!reader x jim kirk (reboot!)] [cancelled; no further updates]
What's worse than being pregnant?
Being pregnant in space.





	1. Wrap That Stickie, Even if It's a Quickie [1]

**Author's Note:**

> This is a cancelled story, meaning there will be no further updates. Sorry!

* * *

 

What’s worse than being stuck in space for five years?

 

Being stuck in space while _pregnant_.

 

“Sorry?” you asked Dr. McCoy (though he insisted you call him Bones for whatever reason, you didn't know), batting your eyelashes once. Surely you had misheard him. You flashed a smile as if it would change the answer. He merely sucked in a big breath before showing you the screen itself, turning it to face you. A gigantic, pink plus sign pulsated on it, even rotating around in 3D. You swallowed thickly. “That can be, ‘yay, you’re not pregnant’. Please. Right?”

 

He was silent for a moment, before gesturing to the cheering babies on the bottom right hand corner. A circle pulsated around the male, who hooted and clapped. Of course it’d be a boy, you thought almost spitefully.

 

Wait. Oh my god, you were having a child.

 

“Hhhhhaaaa….” you wheezed out, pointing at the boy with a shaking finger. “That’s gonna be mine?”

 

“I’m… uh, sorry,” muttered under his breath. “Really, I am…” He turned the screen away from you slowly as if it might make you feel better, before awkwardly pretending to fiddle with a button on it. The cooing and giggling of the babies was muted, leaving you to listen to your life crashing around you.

 

“Well, I can get an abortion? Can’t I?” your voice was hushed at this as you leaned forwards to clutch his wrist. You felt like you needed something to hold onto, lest you would fall away along with your future.

 

An abortion. You knew it would be considered sinful to some — but you were a grown woman who could make her own choices. Also, a grown woman who lives in a spacecraft. And will have to bring said child _in_ that spacecraft. For five years.

 

Nope.

 

“Your body can’t take it, I already checked.”

 

“So I can spit a baby out of my vagina, but I can’t kill it?” you hadn’t meant for your words to be this harsh, and immediately covered your mouth. “I-I mean…”

 

“No, I under… never mind. I can’t understand.” He sighed, rubbing his temples. He gave you a look that was almost fatherly, and a swell of emotion rose inside of you to join the wailing heartache. “Look, I’m _really_ sorry I can’t help you. But whenever you need anything, just come in and I’ll see what I can do.”

 

“Can’t I just turn this ship around?” you asked jokingly, but he seemed to sense the ray of hope that it could be true in it. He placed a hand on your knee comfortingly. You sat for a while longer before sliding off the bed, sighing and unknowingly placing a hand on your stomach. Once you realized you had, you tore it away sheepishly. Bones seemed to be about to dismiss you before speaking up once more.

 

“Can I just ask something?”

 

“Yeah?” you asked. You tried not to let your depression seep through your words. You patted down your clothing and pretended to act natural.

 

“Who’s the father? Assuming, you, uh know, of course…”

 

You winced. You knew.

 

“It’s the captain.”


	2. Ho, Ho, Ho [2]

You strode down the hallway, carrying several boxes filled with things the engineer had assured you that you didn’t want to know about. All the while you were thinking about your impending doom of a maternity aboard a flying bucket of metal going the speed of life, hurtling through space with no apparent destination.

 

Fun!

 

You moaned aloud in frustration. You just couldn’t take this! Why you? Why not the other slutty PA that had to borrow somebody else’s hands to count the number of men she had slept with?

 

It wasn’t even … _special_ , for you. It was cringe-worthy. A one-night stand! An accidental ass-touch and a bit of lip biting led to a bit of naughty time in the barracks and oops — baby.

 

You made another loud grunt of anger, setting down the boxes much harder than you had meant to. A nasty tuttering sounded inside of one, a hairy, skeletal arm poking out the box’s hole.

 

“Shut up,” you hissed to it. It withdrew immediately.

 

You sighed again out of your nose, placing your palms on the table and letting your head droop. It’d been a week since you found out, and you hadn’t even made eye contact with James Tiberius ‘Jim’ Kirk, much less tell him that you were pregnant. How would it even go?

 

“Hey, Jim, I know we haven’t talked a lot, but I’m preggos with your kid. Ha.” you were about to chuckle snootily at yourself before a voice that should not be there caught you off guard.

 

“What?”

 

You whipped around, a scream getting caught in your throat and merely coming out as a choked exhale. There he was, the man in the flesh. His eyebrows were raised over those crystalline blue eyes, arms crossed over his chest which bore the insignia proudly. 

 

“What did you say?” he asked. It wasn’t demanding but rather curious. He stepped forwards a bit, and then a bit more, so that you could start counting the number of green flecks in those blue eyes. His tone softened as he reached out to touch your shoulder, cocking his head to the side, “Hey, I remember you. I’m not _that_ douchebaggy.”

 

“Uh, right.” What do you say? Oh my god, you were not trained in the classes of ‘How To NOT Be Socially Awkward’! “yeah, so uh…”

 

He said your name questioningly, making you feel bad that you had doubted him that much to not even remember. But still, you couldn’t expect him to want to stick around you! He didn’t even know your last name, favourite colour, or that super-long-back-story-of-why-you-hate-this-certain-fruit!

 

“ _Hey, Jim, I know we haven’t talked a lot, but I’m preggos with your kid! Ha!_ ” the critter inside the box repeated, making you jump again. Your heart nearly climbed out of your throat and ran away to bury itself all the way back to Hell as Jim’s eyes widened. At least the mimicking creature morphed your words to sound jolly as Saint Nick.

 

“Um… what it said.” you smiled and shrugged as if saying ‘Oops, sorry I forgot your paperwork.’

 

Way to break the ice.


	3. My Whiskey Brings All The Boys to the Yard [3]

There really needed to be a manual for awkward people, because you were sweating like a serial killer in church. Jim opened his mouth and closed it several times, attempting to find words to fill the silence that made you feel like you were drowning.

 

 _You have to be the one to do this shit!_ you yelled at yourself mentally, though Jim was starting to look concerned with your screwed-up expression, _You got him into this situation! Okay, you got this. Just ease into it…_ “So… we should, catch dinner later.”

 

He blinked and then raised his eyebrows. His tone was full of disbelief as if he’d heard you wrong. “Dinner.”

 

“Yeah, and play like, 20 questions! Figure out some baby names too, right? Ha, ha…”

 

Oh my god, you were so lame. You cringed inwardly and wondered if it was possible to ask Mister Spock to deposit you on a planet somewhere and then just ‘forget’ to pick you back up.

 

“Uh, yeah! Sure! I’ll talk to you in my room, later?” he gave you a smile that made you want to clutch your face and squeal. He was too cute to actually put up with you for longer than a minute.

 

Nevermind that, you thought to yourself when he fainted in front of you.

\---

“I’m really sorry,” he apologized again, letting you hold the cold cloth to his bruised forehead where he had smashed it into the ground. “I didn’t mean to… Well… It’s a bit stressful, right…”

 

“I’d faint to get away from me, too,” you agreed, trying to sound upbeat. You threw the cloth back into your sink and found the first-aid kit tucked into the wall, and rummaged through it to find a band aid. “I’m horrendously awkward, and kinda ugly too…”

 

“Nah, I don’t think that,” Jim replied smoothly, but the ‘nah’ caught you. Not even a full-on ‘no’? You really _should_ have popped that zit on your forehead before talking to him…

 

“Yeah, okay,” you muttered, restraining the disappointment you felt, “now hold still.”

 

“Why — ow!”

 

He winced away from the alcohol infused cotton ball you had jabbed into his still-bleeding wound. His fingers bunched up your sheets as he bit his lips, obviously holding back a tsunami of swears. You almost wished he’d just go out and say it. It would bring a sense of bonding, but instead he just stomped his foot a couple of times. Damn boys.

 

“I warned you,” you teased, deciding that enough alcohol had leaked into the cut to disinfect it. You wiped it off and slapped a band aid on it in a fell swoop, not allowing him to protest. You sat down beside him heavily, then realizing that wasn’t very lady-like. You felt your cheeks get warmer. Why was being a proper grown-ass woman so hard? He bounced beside you once, obviously startled, but said a quiet thanks.

 

“Hey, is that a bottle of whiskey tucked behind your uniform?” he asked shortly afterwards, pointing to where indeed there was a bottle of whiskey. 

 

“No,” you lied. He waited. “Okay, yes. It’s five damn years, mama’s not going on thirsty.” 

 

He was speechless, and again you barraged yourself with insults for being such a hopeless person to bear such a hopeful leader’s child. 

 

Then he laughed.

 

It was strangely attractive and not, a sort of strangled honk that still made your heart flutter. He had to cover his grin with a hand as he chortled away. 

 

“D-do you want a glass?” you offered, still getting over your bewilderment to having made a hot boy laugh. “just don’t tell Mister Spock.”

 

“That tight-ass is probably screwing some chick anyway,” he shrugged, leaving you with a loose jaw that the guy who had been so awkward around you mere moments before was being so crudely friendly. 

 

Fucking score!

 

“But aren’t you, uh… not supposed to drink?” he gestured towards you, concern clouding his expression.

 

“Fuck it,” you said, and then covered your mouth. He burst out laughing again, shaking his head.

 

“I guess I hit the jackpot, huh?” he said, probably to himself, but the words left you with such spirit you nearly tripped over yourself to get to the poorly hidden bottle.

 

Apparently, you were the luckiest damn bastard on Earth to be yourself and actually not scare a guy away.


	4. Lucky Stars

“Hey, you!”

You turned, and somebody grabbed you with such force you nearly fell backwards. 

“What the hell?” you gasped, trying to calm your heart which was rattling against your ribs. You pressed a hand into your chest. “I could’ve died!”

“He he. I wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore!” your best friend, Adrian, winked, placing a hand on her beautifully curved hip and cocking her weight to the side. _She looks like she belongs in a perverted Japanese commercial,_ you thought to yourself in an unimpressed tone. She was gorgeous, and cute, and funny… and you were kind of the smudge of gum left under a chair.

“So funny. What do you want?” you sighed, placing your pen in the clipboard. You were almost done running tests — but had a few more reports to scribble down. 

“Whoa, who’s a touchy bitch? I haven’t seen you in like, two days! I didn’t know you hated me that much.”

“Sorry, Adrige. I just…” you thought about the thing in your belly and cringed. “Some stuff happened.”

“Oh my god, so I heard that this one thing happened. I mean, you’re not popular so I wouldn’t expect you to know, but — ”

“I am _so_ popular! What are you talking about!” you sneered, but it was pretty empty. You hardly knew people’s names, much less their personal lives.

“You know the super hot captain?”

“What?” your face fell into a really ugly position of ‘huh’ before it clicked. Captain Kirk. Your face immediately warmed so you turned away, pretending to busy yourself with the computer screen. “Oh, yeah. That guy. Yeah, I’ve… bumped into him…”

 _More like he thrusted into you a hundred times,_ your crude inner voice said, and you swatted yourself physically in the ear. Adrian looked at you oddly. 

“Well, um… a friend of a friend of a friend told me…” she was leaning in to you now — how creepy — and then burst out in a screech of giggles. 

“God, you’re so annoying,” you muttered endearingly.

“He got a girl preggos!”

“Wait, what?” your head snapped to her so quickly you might’ve broken it. How the hell did people find out. 

“Oh, you’re actually interested! I knew he was your type. It’s a shame though, nobody knows who it is… well, only one person’s bound to have a pregnancy test booked in their name, right?” she laughed, winking at you. It took you a second.

Adrian worked as a nurse. She had access to records.

Most importantly of all, _your_ record.

“Shouldn’t you like, not look into that? That’s like, a breach of privacy!” you were blurting this shit out, and she knew it, but you couldn’t let her know that you’d gotten knocked up because of a one-night stand.

“Why do you care so much?” she asked suspiciously. You held your breath.

“Um…”

“Is it because… you…?”

 _Oh my god,_ you thought. _It’s all over. My parents will hate me, everybody on the ship will hate me, Jim’ll hate me…_

“Know who it is!?”

You nearly collapsed. “Yeah, of course I do! I-I told you I was popular!”

How were you so lucky that you had an idiot as your friend? You were also so secretive about your personal life that she could never pin down somebody else! 

“Tell me!” 

“Nope.”

You were basically laughing like an evil villain now. Foiled the plan yet again, yesiree.

“I’ll just look her up then.”

You almost collapsed again. “Wait, what?”

She stuck her tongue out. “I need to know! And if _you_ won’t tell me, then I’ll just figure it out by myself.”

“Wait — Adrian!”

She had already skipped off. 

You sat down on the floor so that you wouldn’t fall. Your lucky stars must really hate you.

**Author's Note:**

> Elsewhere: http://deltachye.tumblr.com/post/145785251436/cuffed-m-language-pregnantreader-x-jim-kirk


End file.
